HERO
by Summer39
Summary: Another AU. The team's being forced to monitor the actions of a retired Rigan fighter pilot with ties to Mark's father. Just what makes a hero anyway? It's not always the number of medals earned but the impression left behind. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**HERO**

_I must give credit to my good friend, Whiteswan, whose "Operation Babysit" listed on this site under the Gatchaman section, gave birth to this idea. She chose to use a toddler as the center of her Gatchaman story, with Ken being granted the majority of the responsibility. Since I'm such a fan of the "Battle…" universe, I chose to remain in it. I thought that a senior citizen, particularly a retired fighter pilot, could be just as much a handful to watch than that of a baby. His connection to Mark's father played a substantial role in the deceased colonel's professional and personal life. Those of you who've read my entries know that I've aged the characters a bit, placing them in their early to mid-20's with the exception of Keye who's 18 here. I've also given them established relationships; they're young adults and thought it would be interesting to see how those relationships might be handled. It's rated "M" for a reason. I hope those of you who choose to read this enjoy it. The usual disclaimer still stands; "Battle of the Planets" belongs to Sandy Frank Entertainment and "Gatchaman" to Tatsunoko Productions._

All five members of the G-Force team had gathered into Chief William Anderson's office at the Intergalactic Federation of Peaceful Planets base located on the outskirts of Bay City. This was supposed to have been the first day of a much long awaited vacation for Earth's finest defense league. Spectran attacks had begun to wane in both severity and quantity; Earth's military forces had been able to thwart alien assaults without back up from G-Force. So it had come as a surprise when they received a priority alert signal from their communicators. They had all made plans for the next two weeks and didn't want to hear from their mentor that their plans would have to either be delayed or cancelled.

Commander Mark Beckham stood with his back facing the team staring out of the monumental high-rise overlooking the IFPP's campus, wondering what kind of disturbance warranted that they all be called to Anderson's office on short notice. He looked over his shoulder and his intense blue eyes met the emerald green eyes of Officer Princess Anderson, sitting on the leather couch next to Keye, her younger brother engrossed in the latest hand-held computer game. She was Mark's third in command and his girlfriend of now two years. Princess smiled sensuously at him, and Mark responded in kind with a roguish grin, tilting his head slightly and rewarding her with a sexy wink. His deep blue eyes drinking in the sight of Princess in the flirty turquoise sundress she was wearing, exposing her sun kissed skin. Unlike the other team members who had planned to leave Bay City for their vacation, Mark and Princess had decided to spend the remaining two weeks holed up in Princess' beach house. Her home was situated on virtually isolated beach property, giving them the privacy they both eagerly craved.

Mark folded his arms and reached up to rub at his chin before cutting a glance back at Princess, who looked at him questioningly from her place on the couch. Everything faded in the background as an image of him and Princess in the Pacific Ocean's surf one warm summer's night a few weeks ago entered into Mark's mind. The frothy water blanketing them as they lay on the wet sand; making love as if they were the only inhabitants on Earth. Remembering the sensation of Princess' tongue gliding across his hot skin, tasting the ocean's salt on his throat while her silken thighs held him a willing captive within her embrace. His mouth capturing her soft moans of pleasure while her body responded to the demands of his. He remembered feeling every hardened inch of himself buried deep within her; his body stoking a fire within the young woman beneath him while she cried out his name to the night. He'd never felt so free, so uninhibited and it was all because of Princess. She'd made him happier than he ever dreamed possible. He valued their relationship and what they'd found together.

Mark smiled brazenly in remembrance and met Princess' beautiful face still watching him, almost certain that she was caught up in the same memory as he; seeing the flood of warmth seep into her face as he watched her told him so. She shifted slightly in her seat, fingered several strands of dark hair behind one ear, and crossed one shapely leg over the other before giving him a smoldering look, her full lips curving into a luscious smile. Mark knew that no one was watching their silent foreplay, discretion having been something they mastered while under the jurisdiction of one the Federation's main authority figures, Chief Anderson. But they were on the verge of their impending vacation and as far as he was concerned a little sexual playfulness was allowed. The young man frowned mockingly at her, shook his head and bit his bottom lip. He was hoping they could re-enact that particular night. _Damn I can't wait to get out of here!_

Officer Jason Devereaux, G-Force's second in command, wasn't at his usual post-with his back against the wall, arms folded in front of his chest, and legs crossed at the knees. Instead he was pacing with nervous energy, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he walked an imaginary line from Anderson's desk to the center of the room.

"Man I hate this! I absolutely hate this!" Jason combed back a pelt of sandy brown hair from his forehead. "I've got a race coming up on Monaco Island in two days. Rachel and I should've been on that flight an hour ago! What in the hell is so important that it had to interrupt our down time?" Rachel Sheridan was Jason's girlfriend of over a year. She worked in the weapon's division of Center Neptune. This would have been the first time Rachel would've traveled abroad with him to watch him race, and they both had been looking forward to it. Rachel had been wary of Jason's **_need for speed_**, believing his role as a Federation officer dangerous enough. She'd only recently been made aware that he was the Condor of G-Force. She was just grateful when he survived an assignment. But his racing was another extreme to her, albeit minor in comparison to his role as G-2. It was imperative to Jason that Rachel understand his love of the sport; he believed this trip would provide her with some insight. He didn't want her thinking of him as an action junkie. Racing was truly what he loved to do.

Officer Jack 'Tiny' Harper, G-Force's pilot and oldest member of the group, shook his head in both agreement and disgust. "Man all I know is that this had not better be another Spectran attack. I've been saying all along that we blow that planet from existence. Allie and I made plans months ago." Tiny and his fiancée, Alicia Blake, were going to do some deep sea fishing off of the Hawaiian isles. Alicia worked as a mechanical engineer at the base of the IFPP. She played a role in the design of the Phoenix, G-Force's stellar aerial battleship.

Officer Keye Anderson, the youngest member of G-Force, continued to play with his hand held computer game; his focus seemingly on fighting alien invaders. "Whatever it is it can't be more important than bustin' up my plans. My friend, Spencer, and I were headed for Malibu. Some great waves were predicted and I was lookin' forward to breakin' in my new board. Not to mention the scores of scantily clad honeys in bikinis that I looked forward to meeting and parties every night." The sound of defeat rang in the air from the tiny device and Keye raised a fist in the air as his final score was tabulated. "Yes!" He turned to his older sibling. "For the life of me Prin, I can't figure out what you and Mark are going to do all alone in that beach house of yours for the next two weeks. I mean how much fun can you two have by yourselves?"

Mark looked over his shoulder quickly and responded smugly, "Would you prefer digital pics or the video?" Jason and Tiny immediately laughed like a couple of frat boys who'd been told a dirty joke. Keye's once clueless face slowly registered understanding. He frowned at Mark's recent statement, gave him the finger, and returned to playing his computer game mumbling expletives under his breath as he blew strands of long brown hair out of his eyes.

Princess threw Mark a warning glance but smiled at his implication. She got up from her place next to Keye and sauntered towards Mark, her arms folded in front of her. "Stop encouraging Jase and Tiny. Are you trying to embarrass me?" she asked cuffing his chin as Mark continued to watch her with warm blue eyes.

Mark laughed good naturedly. "Just giving your brother a refresher course in sex ed." He spoke in Keye's direction. "You see Keye when the male of the species wants to show the female…Oww!" Princess strategically poked Mark in his rib cage.

"You're incorrigible!" she retorted pulling on Mark's shirt as he placed his hands on Princess' upper arms. "I can't believe you said that!" Her lovely face reflected her embarrassment.

"Ha! Ha! Funny bastard!" Keye grumbled as he realized he was the butt of the joke for the moment, the other team members still laughing at their team mate's expense.

Her outrage momentarily forgotten, Princess' large green eyes devoured Mark as she purred seductively for his ears alone, "Just wait until I get you home."

Mark's hands tightened on her upper arms as he pulled her closer and whispered back, "You know I'd bend you over my knee and spank you if I didn't know you liked it so much." His voice had turned Princess' blood to lava; her cheeks burned an even deeper shade of red.

The panel door to Anderson's office slid open and in walked the Galaxy Security Chief. He managed to come in on the tail end of the joke and from the looks of it his son, Keye, was at the center of it. He was grateful for the team's jovial attitude. _For now, _he mused. The team wasn't going to be happy with the news he was about give them. They were going to be devastated with the announcement that their plans would have to be cancelled. Even more so when they discovered why.

Chief Anderson coughed slightly before venturing further into the room, garnering the team's attention as he stood in front of his large desk and leaned slightly against its edge. Mark walked away from Princess toward the center of the room; the G-Force commander coming to a halt in front of Anderson's line of vision.

"Alright Chief. We're all in attendance. What's so important that we all had to be called in on a moment's notice? And don't tell us it's another Spectran attack." Mark stood with his arms folded in front of his chest, his stance reflecting his determination to let them know what was happening immediately.

Anderson lowered his eyes to the floor and expelled a bit of air between pursed lips before looking at the anxious faces of his G-Force team. "I'm sorry but your vacation plans have been cancelled."

A chorus of obscenities sprang from Jason, Tiny, and Keye simultaneously. Even Princess had to swallow the words that had threatened to erupt from her mouth. Disappointment was evident on everyone's faces.

Mark turned to look at his team mates over his shoulder before returning his attention to the man who gave them the bad news. "Chief Anderson, we've been looking forward to this vacation for weeks. If it's Spectra causing the problem, then certainly our own military can handle them. We haven't had to face a mech attack in months!"

Jason came to stand next to Mark, his face furious. "Mark's right! Chief, what in the hell is going on?" Mark held up his hand in an attempt to stop Jason from saying anything further.

Anderson frowned, holding up his hands to thwart off the barrage of questions from the others in the room. "Now calm down! I'm just as disappointed as the rest of you. We all have deserved some much needed time off." He sighed before removing his glasses and rubbed at his eyes with his right hand's thumb and index finger. "Unfortunately your presence was requested in this particular case."

"Requested?" Princess echoed. "I don't understand. Is this an assignment?"

Anderson snorted before replacing his thin frames back over his nose. "Unlike any we've had to deal with before." He walked purposely behind his desk while the team looked at each other warily. The Chief indicated for them to sit while he did the same. He opened the panel on the right side of his desk and eased back in his chair, teepeeing his fingers as the room began to darken.

A large screen appeared behind Anderson and within seconds the face of man who was the source of their problem appeared. An older man with weathered features only partially hidden beneath his thick white mustache and beard, dark brooding eyes beneath a fierce scowl, and a receding hair line graying at the temples. His face was wide, giving the indication that he was a large man. Mark stiffened as he instantly recognized the face on the screen, his eyes narrowing as he studied the man's appearance. Princess sensed the tension in Mark while sitting next to him, her worried eyes wondering what connection he had with the older man. Anderson's scrutinizing eyes had picked up on Mark's reaction immediately, realizing that he had some knowledge about this gentleman. Rather than dwell on it, the Chief continued. He and Mark would talk later.

"This is General Eli Drake of the elite Rigan air squadron. He's 70 years old, recently retired, and right now in need of constant monitoring." Anderson turned and leaned his elbows onto his desk while sweeping his eyes from left to right focusing on the team. "He'd been assigned as one of Rigan's most top advisors aiding the squadron with his knowledge of Spectran war tactics before his retirement. The wealth of information General Drake has gathered over the years is not only insurmountable but highly valuable. Spectran operatives would consider his capture a major victory in their bid to take over not only Planet Riga but Earth. But lately the general has been behaving in an odd manner." With that Anderson fingered the switch on the panel of his desk. Simultaneously the room began to lighten and the huge screen disappeared from behind the Chief.

"What do you mean by odd?" Jason asked as he caught the questioning glances of Tiny and Keye. He watched Mark sitting on the opposite couch staring fixatedly at the blank space behind Anderson. _What in the hell is wrong with him?_ Jason's dark brow furrowed suspiciously and he lifted his chin at Princess before cutting a quick glance back at Mark. She eyed Mark once more and shrugged her shoulders, mouthing _I don't know._

Anderson moved from behind the desk to sit on its edge; his arms folded in front of his chest. "Well he's been speaking out against the Federation Alliance for starters; divulging information to virtually anyone who's willing to listen. He would leave his home and be gone for days without so much as a word to anyone of his whereabouts. And when confronted he's highly defensive about it. Because of this he was forced into retirement a few weeks ago. But he's been even more impossible to deal with now than before. Because of the level of information he holds, the Federation Alliance felt it best that he be monitored even suggesting placement of sorts. But General Drake passed all of the necessary psychological test; he's not considered incompetent. So the Federation decided to send him on an …extended vacation." Anderson shifted slightly under the team's scrutiny. "Here on Earth…in Bay City."

"Wait a minute! Hold the phone! You mean to tell us the reason we're stuck here is so we can watch the old man while he's on vacation?" Tiny ranted, his face contorted in disbelief.

Anderson nodded. "Yes that's about the size of it." It sounded unbelievable even to his own ears. "The Federation insisted that G-Force monitor the actions of General Drake before his return to Riga to be reassessed by their psychologists."

Jason stood from his place on the couch and laughed sarcastically, slapping a hand to his forehead while walking toward one of the office's windows. "Boy the bullshit never ends does it? We've been reduced from soldiers to fucking babysitters!"

"Alright Jason, that's enough," Anderson warned before he continued. "Listen, I want all of you to know that I didn't just sit on this one. I felt this assignment didn't require our attention at all. I even asked the Federation Board to consider using our Internal Security Division to monitor Drake's actions," Anderson added.

Keye looked at his father hopefully. "Well what did they say?"

"They said General Drake is the Federation's responsibility and being that, would prefer that G-Force oversee this assignment."

"In-fucking-credible!" Jason shouted. "Hell why don't we open a damned daycare every time someone goes a little _loco_! We'll use a revolving door as the entrance! Someone's bound to be in there more than once!"

Mark continued to sit quietly with his elbows on his knees amidst all the fuss among his team mates. Anderson held up his hand again in another attempt to alleviate the rise of angry voices before returning his attention to Mark. The Chief eyed the young commander shrewdly. "Mark you haven't said one word about any of this. Care to share what's on your mind?"

Tiny grumbled as he got up from an adjoining couch, stretching to his full height of 6ft 3 inches before stuffing his large hands into his pants pockets, "He's probably in shock. This has got to be the most ridiculous damned thing we've ever been asked to do! If you ask me this is nothing more than a case of Old Timers Disease!"

Princess touched Mark's shoulder lightly. "Mark? Are you alright? Do you know this man?" Suddenly all eyes were on the young commander in search of a response.

Mark lowered his eyes to the floor. "General Drake was my father's commanding officer," he answered quietly. Understanding began to dawn on Anderson's face as Mark's voice lowered an octave. "My father literally worshipped this man; even emulated himself after him. I remember seeing his pictures with my father's things after he was killed." Mark raised his head and looked forward, his thoughts seemingly miles away from the rest of the team. He remembered his father's abrasive words to distance himself from his team mates in order to be an effective leader. Never get personally involved and how to command respect, never demand it. Mark's dark blue eyes glaciered over. "I never met General Drake but his words were always honed into my psyche."

Mark's team mates' stares shifted from one person to the next. Chief Anderson rose from his seat on the edge of his desk and spoke thoughtfully. "Commander look at this as just another assignment. Granted it's not a routine assignment, but General Drake is a retired Federation officer and deserves our respect and utmost cooperation. If you feel that you can't handle it…."

No one noticed the tall figure standing in front of the panel door as it closed silently, allowing the stranger entrance into Anderson's office.

"If he can't handle it then he's no son of Colonel Cronus!," the figure spoke accusingly in a big booming voice. The large man was dressed in full flight gear; a dark jumpsuit clinging to his massive frame. His look was as bold as his voice, his arrogance evident with his unannounced entrance into the room. Enough to make Anderson and the G-Force members stand at full attention.

Mark's eyes narrowed to slits as he came to stand before the man who spoke in the authoritative tone. The younger man responded in a dangerously complaisant voice as he mirrored the older man's stance. "General Eli Drake."

"In the flesh Commander Beckham," the general sneered as his eyes traveled candidly from the top of Mark's head to his feet before catching the glances of Chief Anderson and the remaining G-Force members behind him. His eyes met the only female member of the team and clung blatantly to Princess causing her to shift uncomfortably. After giving the team and Anderson a thorough sweep with his eyes, the general responded cynically, "I think I'm going to enjoy my stay here after all."

**_Thanks for reading!_**


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

**CHAPTER 2**

_**Sorry for the long intervals between updates. If it weren't for the support of my writer friends this chapter probably would've spent more time in the literary freezer than I meant for it too. This chapter continues with the meeting of General Eli Drake to Chief Anderson and the G-Force team. It appears as if though he's a force to be reckoned with; although looks can be deceiving. Old resentments could threaten the relationship between Mark and Jason with Princess at the center of their tug of war; at a time when the team's focus needs to be on the assignment. I'm taking a chance with this chapter, so critics be kind. The story continues…**_

"What kind of piss-ant camp are you running here Anderson?" bellowed General Drake as he walked purposely between Mark and the team, coming to stand directly before the Galaxy Security Chief. "I was able to walk right into this base without so much as anyone acknowledging my presence!"

Anderson smiled formidably at the older man but was surprised by his outburst. He had been informed by Rigan officials that given the nature of General Drake's arrival to Earth the usual fanfare that took place wouldn't be necessary. The General had been brought to the IFPP by the Federation's military shuttle under covert guidelines; his time in Bay City was to be treated like that of a man simply on vacation. Apparently no one had informed General Drake of this. Anderson fumed mentally at the Rigan officers who deliberately placed him in the hot seat; avoiding further contact with Drake once the plan to send him to Bay City had been set in motion. He placed a nervous finger inside the neck of his shirt collar as the G-Force team watched interestedly for their mentor's response.

Having studied Drake's profile thoroughly, Anderson felt it best to appease the General rather than argue with him. The base was always under surveillance though the Chief began to wonder how Drake managed to get into his office past his secretary. Before speaking, he eyed the older man questioningly.

"General I apologize if your arrival wasn't what you expected but we were merely following orders under Rigan authority. But I have to ask and with all due respect, sir, how did you manage to get to my office unaccompanied?"

The older man answered in a loud, authoritative tone. "That's for me to know Anderson. I'm quite resourceful when I need to be. I don't need a boy scout clinging to my elbow and walking me across the street."

Anderson frowned at this as he quickly folded his arms in front of his chest. _He's going to be more of a handful than I thought._ He cut a quick glance to Mark and discovered the young man actually smirking at his expense. The Commander seemed to admire the General's moxy despite his initial dislike of the man. Catching Anderson's piercing stare in his direction, Mark turned his head away, his smile broadening as he folded his arms in front of his chest and enveloped his mouth with one hand. The team continued to watch the scene through fascinated eyes; their eyes going back and forth between the eccentric General Drake and their flustered mentor.

A small cough and a pull on the lapels of his suit jacket were Anderson's response to the General's curt reply. It was then that Anderson took in the General's choice of clothing. The man was wearing a Federation flight suit. Though it was dated and worn, the patches on the suit bore those of a Federation aviator.

Anderson tilted his head and placed his hands to his hips. "Sir, might I also ask why you're wearing the flight suit?"

Drake didn't like being questioned; as a retired officer he didn't feel as if though he had to. People usually went out of their way to accommodate him; they never questioned his motives. The General snorted haughtily. "I understand that your commanding officer is a pilot. I was hoping he'd allow me the use of his Cessna this afternoon. I feel the need to take to the sky. I haven't flown in a while but I'm certain it'll all come back to me once I get behind the controls. A pilot never forgets how to fly."

It was Mark's turn to raise an eyebrow as his expressive blue eyes shifted immediately toward Anderson for assistance; his face blanching at the mere mention of his beloved Cessna being considered for Drake's recreative enjoyment. Anderson smiled as he adjusted his glasses and watched the Eagle's feathers ruffled in return. He merely nodded his head at Mark as his brows lifted above his frames; the amused look on his face seemed to say _Touché Commander! _ Mark twisted his lips and grumbled something inexplicable beneath his breath as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Tiny nudged at Keye's elbow as the teenager sputtered slightly to keep from laughing out loud at the look on Mark's face. Even Princess discovered the humor in it and her lips curled at the corners as she eyed Mark's pouting lips. Jason, on the other hand, was still on edge and was unable to conform to the hilarity of it all. The Condor's mind had been on the race for which he couldn't compete in and his relationship with Rachel. He shook his head in disbelief; disgusted that his time had been taken away from him and that no one seemed to mind.

Deciding to switch gears and ignoring Drake's request for the time being, Anderson felt it best to introduce the team formally. "General Eli Drake, may I introduce to you the entire G-Force team?" Anderson asked as he extended a hand toward the young people motioning for them to stand at attention. Drake stood before them with his hands behind his back as if preparing for an inspection.

Anderson stepped forward and placed a quick hand on Mark's shoulder before dropping it at his side. "This is Commander Mark Beckham. He's the leader of the Federation's special operative team. You know him as the son of Ken Beckham, alias Colonel Adam Cronus."

Drake's eyes scanned every inch of Mark's frame before coming to rest on the young man's face. Mark met the General's perusal with one of his own; sizing up the retired fighter pilot and remembering the role he played in his father's life. He didn't bother concealing the deeply imbedded frown on his face.

Drake remained indifferent as he contemplated his next move. It was considered disrespectful if a subordinate stared a superior officer in the eye. He immediately sensed the Commander's dislike of him and sought to bring the insolent G-1 down a notch. He stepped closer and spoke dryly, "So you're Cronus' boy; the one they call **Eagle." **

Mark lifted his chin. Though his eyes were filled with defiance, he decidedly looked straight ahead and answered with an obedient nod, "Yes sir."

"Cronus was the stuff legends are made of. He was the best fighter pilot I'd ever seen. He took to the sky like he owned it in that jet of his. He couldn't have chosen a more honorable death; sacrificing his life for this planet. I envy him that." Drake's shrewd eyes narrowed as he gauged Mark for a reaction. "I've heard that you're every bit as good, if not better, than he was. Kind of hard to imagine…considering."

Mark knew bait when it was being dangled right in front of him. Comparisons between the older Beckham and himself were often made; particularly their roles as officers. Still he wondered where the old man was going with this. Rather than to swallow the bait whole and answer defensively, the Eagle had been prepared to nibble the line.

But before he could respond, Anderson intervened on Mark's behalf. "Commander Beckham's reputation as an officer and a fighter pilot is impeccable General Drake. Would you care to elaborate?" No one was going to openly criticize his officer without sufficient reason.

"I heard of this young man's trouble after Cronus died," Drake continued as the scowl on his weathered face intensified. "Jeopardized the safety of his team mates and nearly got himself, and them, killed in the process." Mark cut a fulminating look in the General's direction. The expressions from the G-Force team echoed that of their leader. "He should have been cut loose from the start. How you managed to convince the Federation Board to invest any more time in this young man is beyond me. Yet it seems as if though he managed to redeem himself…for what it's worth."

Anderson was furious but before he could respond it was Mark's turn to retaliate in a dangerously mild voice. "I've more than made up for my mistakes General Drake. If the Federation hadn't felt it necessary to cover up what should have been made known to me from the beginning then I'm quite certain things would've been different. But the fact still remains that as a man I have to hold myself accountable for my actions. I regret that I almost cost the lives of my crew in the process. I'm grateful that I was able to make amends and that they still valued me enough to want me to remain as Commander of G-Force. What I won't stand for, though, is you or anyone else questioning whether that decision was the right one. Frankly it's none of your damned business…sir." The latter seemed to come as an afterthought.

As appreciative as Anderson was that Mark had put the General firmly in his place; he closed his eyes in preparation for the expected fallout. Even the team could tell the tension in the room had reached its peak and all were ready for retribution from the boisterous Rigan. The Eagle's cutting response had even taken the Condor by surprise as he too shut his eyes and shook his head from side to side; indicating that his best friend had gone too far. Mark's face remained a belligerent and an unapologetic mask.

Drake's response was anything but as he belted out a loud "Ha!" before laughing uproariously; leaving Anderson and the team perplexed. "Well I'll be damned! So you really are more than just a pretty face Beckham! The son of Cronus has monster size balls after all!" The older man walked the length of the line of young people standing before him, chuckling with each stride. "The Commander of G-Force and his team of misfits are now at my beck and call!"

"Now just a minute. I don't know what you were told General but this team was chosen by the Rigan Federation because they are the very best agents we have. They are here to offer you protection as they would any superior ranked officer; retired or otherwise. They are not here to serve as a source of amusement for you. G-Force takes their assignments and responsibilities seriously," Anderson cut in angrily.

"This isn't a team! It's a band of outcasts!" Drake roared back. "Formal introductions aren't even necessary. I know all about these…these kids!," he spoke loudly pointing at Mark's remaining team mates. "Jason Devereaux; G-2, the celebrity of the group, races cars for a living. Your parents were double agents; killed for trying to sell Federation weapons to an undercover DevilStar operative. I was told you witnessed the murders as a child. Anderson had your identity changed to save your pathetic little ass."

The Condor eyed the General hatefully as he came to stand before the Swan.

"Princess Anderson; G-3, illegitimate daughter of a teen hooker and drug addict." Princess bit her bottom lip as Drake continued. "It must be awfully hard for you…being the only female member of the team **and…**," Drake enunciated, "…having to deal with the stigma your mother left behind. I'm sure the Eagle has managed to look beyond that." He cocked his head to the side, eyeing Princess' lithe yet curvaceous figure as he added, "Quite easy to see why. A sweet, tender thing like yourself." A cautiously placed hand to Mark's shoulder by Anderson stopped him from making a huge mistake. The Eagle had edged forward ready to defend his Swan, but the Galaxy Security Chief thwarted his intention. Though Mark wasn't the only one unscathed by the loathsome comment, Anderson had to portray a neutral front despite the insults hurled at his daughter. Princess shifted furious eyes to the left as the old man eased to her right, standing in front of Keye and Tiny.

"Keye Anderson; G-4, the ISO's only surviving clone conceived from a botched lab experiment. A freak of science, you could barely speak as a youngster but I understand that you grew out of it. Fortunately for you and the lass, Anderson felt sorry enough for both of you to adopt you." Flicking at the tiny gold hoop in the teenager's left ear he added, "And you could stand to lose the earring Timberlake!" Keye grumbled incoherently, sending a mental _**'Blow me!'**_ to Drake while rubbing at his ear. The General then turned to Tiny.

"Last but not least Jackson Harper; G-5; former juvenile delinquent. It's my understanding that you spent more time locked up as a youth than you've been a member of G-Force. The men on my planet still talk about the mission in which you fell asleep behind the controls of the Phoenix on Planet Gentiva while your fellow officers were trying to reach you from the ground." Tiny shifted his neck and rolled his shoulders as Drake went on. "If it weren't for our Rigan fighters arriving in the nick of time as back-up many lives could've been lost that day. What in the fuck were you thinking son?" A muscle in Tiny's jaw twitched from the reference of that one act of stupidity. Drake turned on his heel and sauntered purposely, hands behind his back, towards the Chief's desk; centering himself in front of the huge table.

"Now get this Anderson. I know why I've been sent here and as far as I'm concerned it's Federation conspiracy hidden beneath a ton of bullshit. To have my every move shadowed and dogged by your G-Force team. I was told that it was in my best interest to spend time away from Riga and I consented. What I did not agree to, however, was to be treated like a child. I don't appreciate being given the third degree as soon as I walked into your office. I don't like being eyeballed by some baby faced fighter pilot. And I really don't like being watched by a bunch of long-haired, wet behind the ear kids with more emotional and psychological baggage than I care to name."

"General Drake no one is keeping you here against your will," Anderson responded tightly. "I'd be glad to contact the Federation on Planet Riga and have you returned on the next shuttle as soon as possible."

The General stepped to the other side of Anderson's office; coming to stand before one of the large windows allowing him a view of the IFPP's vast campus. The old man seemed to be contemplating the possibility of returning to his home planet. Several moments passed before he replied indignantly, his back facing Anderson and the team. "I was told not to come back until my actions had been monitored and reported by you and the team." He raised his bearded chin proudly; his stance was stiff. Admitting those words appeared to have cost him his dearly.

Anderson chose to sit on the edge of his desk as he watched the team's reaction to Drake's recent admission. The old man didn't want to be there anymore than they wanted him to. In all aspects, the General's freedom had been taken away from him to an extent. His freedom of choice. He was considered a security risk on Planet Riga and sent away as a liability to the Federation. As angry as they all were at Drake, something close to compassion managed to encompass Anderson and the team; though they remained on guard. The tension on their faces began to dissipate as did the line they had stood in under the General's scrutiny. Drake remained at the window, refusing to face anyone for the moment.

The buzz of Anderson's phone cut into the silence. He lifted the receiver promptly. "Chief Anderson here." The voice on the line was panic stricken and profusely apologetic. It was one of the Federation's Military Police trying to explain how he and his officers had _'…mistakenly lost General Drake!'_ Anderson sighed deeply and rubbed at his eyes underneath his thin frames; mentally cursing the old man for the problems he's already caused at the base.

While Anderson's attention was directed toward the caller on the other end of the line; Mark motioned for the team to gather in a huddle of sorts. He was interested in hearing their thoughts on this situation.

"Alright…everybody out with it," he whispered, his eyes ricocheting from left to right. "It doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out that no one wants this assignment."

"I'd rather walk through hell in a gasoline soaked thong than have to put up with the Grim Reaper over there," Tiny added with a cock of his head in Drake's direction.

"For serious," Keye responded adamantly. "I mean what's up with this guy? He's the mascot for assholes!"

"Since when did you give up the title Timberlake?" Tiny shot back quickly, delivering a thump to the back of Keye's head good-naturedly.

Keye retorted with a verbal, "Blow me Sleeping Beauty!" The Owl's face twisted as he pretended to inch toward the youngest member of the team, ready to inflict punishment.

"Will you two jerks cut it out?" Princess intervened. "We've got a real problem on our hands. General Drake is being deliberately vindictive. Not that it matters if he likes us or not. I mean…we've dealt with this kind of thing before."

"It's not about _like_. It's about _respect_. And for whatever reason this man has decided we don't deserve it," Mark replied in a low voice as he looked up briefly, his glance alternating between Drake and the four faces in front of him.

"I don't see what the big deal is! For once I say we band together and refuse this assignment. Tell Anderson to inform the Rigan Federation that G-Force is sending them the finger with a Super Bird Missile attached to it!" Jason cut in acidly.

Princess frowned slightly while Tiny and Keye nodded in agreement.

Mark straightened to his full height and folded his arms to his chest; considering the team's input for several minutes. Taking everything into account he answered decisively.

"We're taking this assignment."

Keye and Tiny groaned simultaneously; the younger man throwing up his hands to his head and kneeling theatrically. Princess nodded acceptingly of Mark's decision. Jason's face was mutinous.

Mark held up a hand defensively. "Before you say anything more Jase, hear me out. It's not our job to refuse an assignment; no matter how lame that assignment may be. I don't like this anymore than you do but he was sent here to be monitored by us; a fact we can't dispute. He's a decorated Rigan war veteran. Despite the bullshit he's hurling at us, he still deserves our protection and respect." Mark glanced shrewdly in the General's direction; briefly studying the old man. "Though it does bother me that he knows so much about each of us. It's almost as if he's testing us; trying to see it we can handle it."

"Handle it?" Jason almost shrieked before he caught himself and lowered his voice an octave. Anderson had just replaced the receiver as he watched what appeared to be a confrontation brewing between the Eagle and the Condor. "That mofo came at us with guns blazing! Then he goes into pity-mode; changing faces like a damned Transformer!" Jason stepped back and hooked his thumbs into his front pants pockets, tapping his fingers with frustrated energy. "This isn't about us anyway. It's about you. That son of a bitch has ties to your father and you're dragging us into it!" The latter end of the sentence had caught the General's attention. Anderson stood up from his desk and made his way toward the group.

"Jason please!" Princess admonished in a low tone as Mark began inching perilously close to his accuser. Standing less than a foot away from the Condor, the Eagle spoke quietly but with great restraint.

"The only reason I'm letting that one go is because I know that you're upset about missing that race on Monaco Island. Now I suggest you go and talk to Rachel about your plans being cancelled and whatever the hell else is going on with you before we say or do something that we both might regret later," Mark countered distinctly; his message had been abundantly clear.

Jason worked his jaw as if to say more but faltered while looking at Mark's challenging stare with Anderson coming in from behind. The Condor was placing the Eagle in an awkward situation. Deciding to leave rather than continue the argument, Jason eased back on his heels, turned, and walked in a silent huff toward the panel doors. He retreated quickly from Anderson's office.

"What in the hell just happened?" Anderson demanded quietly, now standing next to Mark.

"Trouble in the ranks Commander?" Drake asked as he stepped towards the group. He seemed to thrive on turmoil.

"Not at all General. G-2 was given permission to leave."

Drake didn't buy it although Mark had answered with his best poker face. Anderson decided to divert the older man's attention once more; hoping that the Condor's hasty exit could be ignored. He would find time to talk to Mark later about his second in command.

"General Drake since you are to remain here for the next few weeks, you should know that G-Force is more than capable of providing you with both protection and companionship during the course of your stay here in Bay City. I assure you the Rigan Federation has chosen wisely in asking that Commander Beckham and his team oversee this assignment."

The big Rigan snorted as he cast a doubtful look at the G-Force Commander and his officers.

Anderson went on. "You must be tired from your trip, sir. Accommodations have been made for you in our officer's quarters. If you'll come with me I have a car waiting outside to take you…"

Drake cut in as his eyes shifted towards Mark. "Those accommodations won't be necessary Anderson. I hate spending the majority of my time confined to this base. I think I'd like to reside in something a little smaller and more suitable to my liking."

"What did you have in mind, sir?" Anderson asked.

"Cronus once told me that he had an old shack on the outskirts of Bay City. Said the place also had a small hangar for his planes situated on a cliff overlooking the ocean," the old man responded knowingly.

"That place is now my home General. My father left it to me." Mark muttered in a rough edged voice. "But then I'm sure you already knew that."

"Cronus told me that he always felt at peace there. Said I could use it if ever I came to Bay City. I think I'd like to take him up on his offer; posthumously of course. That is…if you don't mind my staying with you."

_Exactly what is this bastard up to? _Mark wondered. The looks on Anderson and that of his team mates seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Why would you want to stay with me General? The base definitely seems more fitting for a man like yourself."

"Because there I'd have space; I'd be able to move about without having my every move recorded. I think I deserve some degree of freedom." Drake made it sound like a demand. "And since Chief Anderson has been touting you as being the best of the best then watching me shouldn't be such a challenge." His tone held a hint of being accusatory; as if daring Mark to prove him wrong.

A strange smile formed on the Commander's lips. What was believed to be rejection of the General's idea about to be acknowledged from Mark; his next choice of words took everyone by surprise. "Alright General Drake. If my home is what suits you, then you are welcome to reside there until you are ready to return to Riga."

Anderson strongly disagreed but spoke diplomatically, "General you would be better protected here at the base. There would be no restrictions that are well within reason."

"I am within my rights Anderson. I'm staying here in Bay City and I am under the constant protection of your G-Force Commander. The **boy**…," with heavy emphasis on that particular word and eyes narrowing at the Eagle, "…already agreed to it." Drake turned on his heels as he marched toward the panel doors. "I'll be over at 1900 hours." He spoke condescendingly over his shoulder, "Anderson are you going to give me a tour of this place or are you going to stand there with your mouth gaped open?"

The panel doors opened upon Drake's approach and he removed himself from the office. One brow lifting, Anderson grumbled something inarticulate before reaching the panel doors. He then spoke for the Eagle's ears alone. "You and I will talk later." He then exited and rounded the corner hurriedly in pursuit of the General.

"Are you out of your freakin' mind?" Tiny shouted plopping himself onto the nearest couch. "You just invited the devil himself into your house!"

Mark went to Anderson's desk and sat on its edge; leaning his palms against the surface. "I believe I can handle him. Drake's got an agenda. I'm going to find out what it is."

Princess stood with her arms folded; one hand rubbing on her left upper arm warily. Mark could sense doubt coursing through her about allowing the General to stay with him.

"Well better you than us," Keye quipped. "If he's staying with you then …"

"Then nothing," Mark retorted, shifting his glance from Princess for the moment. "This is still an assignment and we're all taking part. Wherever Drake goes, one or more of us are always with him. Keye you're on research detail. Find out everything you can about Drake's background. Chief Anderson was only given a surface history, I'm certain of it. Dig up what you can. Hack at your own discretion."

"Yeah, yeah," Keye responded grudgingly.

"Tiny, I may need you and Prin to plant yourselves outside of my place tonight just in case. You'll be on stakeout for a few hours. I'll signal you both to leave when I think everything is alright." Mark's perceptive eyes softened while watching Princess' worried expression. They needed to talk.

The big guy's brows stitched together. "What about Jason? Does he get to play _The Invisible Man?"_

"Yeah! Why is he getting a '_Get out of jail free'_ card?" Keye added.

"Don't worry about G-2. I'll have a talk with him later. You and Keye had better let Allie and Spencer know that our plans have been cancelled." Mark gestured toward the door for Tiny and Keye to leave but his eyes never left the Swan's.

Tiny glanced at Princess then back at Mark. "Subtlety isn't your strong suit pal. Come on Stuart Little," Tiny grinned as he stood up and grabbed Keye's shirt by the collar, dragging the teenager with him out of Anderson's office.

"Come here," Mark commanded softly extending his hand out for Princess'. She went willingly towards him, coming to stand between his long legs while he remained on the desk's edge. Their fingers linked in mid-air as Mark stared up into a set of cautious green eyes. "You're worried."

Princess didn't hold her tongue. "It was one thing to take the assignment but another to have Drake stay with you." Mark lowered his head as Princess squeezed his hands, urging him to look at her. "His behavior is somewhat erratic. Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Mark looked up; his dark blue eyes reflecting his confidence. "He's a conniving, eccentric old buzzard. An upstart who feeds off of making others feel inadequate. I'm beginning to think it's his way of keeping others at a distance. It takes the spotlight off of him." He maneuvered Princess' hands behind her back and eased her closer. "Now what I didn't like was what he said to you. Part of me feels like I owe you an apology. Are you alright?"

"I'm a big girl Eagle."

"I know that better than anyone kitten," Mark smiled roguishly, releasing Princess' hands and placing his hands on her hips.

Princess moved her hands to Mark's shoulders. "Then you should also know that I don't want you fighting my battles for me. I've handled men like the General before. Besides he didn't just call me out. Each of us were whipped by that forked tongue of his."

"Still, keep your distance. I didn't like the way he looked at you. He was all but undressing you with his eyes. Lecherous bastard." Mark pulled Princess closer, situating her between his thighs, his hands now rubbing intimately against her bottom.

"And we both know you aren't like that," she laughed leaning over to nibble on Mark's ear.

Mark's head turned and he brushed his lips against Princess' throat, inhaling that warm seductive fragrance of hers. He reached up, sifting his fingers through her dark hair before coming to rest his hand at the nape of her neck and leaned in to capture her lips with his own. As Princess melted into Mark, she teased the seam of his lips with her tongue before allowing him access. Mark's hands firmly cradled Princess's face between his hands, moving his mouth slowly and luxuriously over her lips. His tongue tangled possessively against hers, as if to remind her this wasn't a game to him. His desire for her was evident with his body pressed so closely to hers and his hands began to travel sensuously across her skin.

When Mark's fingers slipped beneath the thin straps of Princess' dress, easing them from her smooth shoulders he spoke to her between kisses. "I…was…so…looking…forward…to seeing…you lying…naked beneath me…on that…beach again." His mouth was migrating from her lips, to her throat, to the hint of cleavage visible above the plunging neckline of her sundress.

Princess knew she needed to put the brakes on; a closed door never stopped them before. They were just fortunate they'd never been caught. Her senses reeling, she thought of something to turn Mark's attention away from her and back to the matter at hand. "What about Jason?" she asked breathlessly as he sipped on her bottom lip.

"Strange as it may seem, I never had the desire to see Jason naked," he grinned against her chin.

Princess laughed as she reluctantly eased away from Mark, though he kept his hands on her hips. "You know what I mean. Are you going to talk with him or hold a grudge? You know he didn't mean what he said to you about your father." She readjusted the straps of her dress onto her shoulders.

"And as always, you're defending him," Mark accused, rolling his eyes. "Jason meant what he said. Later he'll show up at my front door as always with some half-ass excuse as to why he acted like an asshole, I'll forgive him, and we're back to being best friends as usual. It's the nature of our relationship. One I'm getting pretty tired of. He's supposed to be my right hand man. He picked a hell of a time to go off half-cocked in front of General Drake."

"It's the race Mark. You know how much it meant to him. Jason was looking forward to competing and having Rachel there with him to watch," Princess continued to defend their friend beseechingly.

"Why are you taking his side?" Mark asked placing his hands on either side of Princess' shoulders.

"Baby I'm not taking sides. It's just that I know racing is Jason's true passion. The vendetta against his parent's death doesn't seem as important to him anymore. He seems to have found a purpose. Jason just wants his life back."

Mark was becoming annoyed with the mere mention of the Condor. "We all want that Prin. But whether he likes it or not G-Force is his first obligation. The war with Spectra could be ending very soon. Everything so far is pointing to it. We've managed to survive the worst of it. He'll have plenty of time for racing afterwards."

"Maybe I should talk with him." Princess' face reflected her concern. She could never be easily pacified.

Mark frowned and rose from his place on the edge of his desk. He placed his hand to her cheek, his thumb and forefinger lifting her chin he added seriously, "You only have me to deal with now. Jason is Rachel's problem, not yours. Let it go alright?"

There was still the slightest hint of insecurity in the depths of Mark's blue eyes, though Princess knew he'd never admit it. Sometimes Mark had trouble believing he deserved her.

Her relationship with Jason had always been like a thorn in his side. Not that he didn't trust Princess, but Jason always seemed to bring out her protective instincts. She understood him; sometimes better than Mark did.

"Alright Eagle," Princess smiled sheepishly, her palms stroking against Mark's chest . "Besides…Rachel will straighten him out."

This seemed to satisfy Mark, though he noticed that Princess didn't promise that she wouldn't talk to Jason later. He knew she only meant to help and nodded acceptingly. She and Jason had a history of closeness that always bothered him; an intimacy that surpassed normal friendship. He didn't want Jason leaning on his girlfriend's shoulder when Rachel could be just as supportive.

The atmosphere had changed between them; causing Mark and Princess to lapse into silence. The mention of Jason had created awkwardness and a tension that didn't exist before. Now neither of them was certain of the other's mood.

Princess knew Mark would be the first to retreat emotionally if given time for his doubts to fester; creating a barrier around himself until his trust in their relationship returned. She couldn't allow that to happen. Not while they needed each other during this particular assignment.

She might've been too late. Mark stepped around her and felt for the communicator on his left wrist. He chose not to look at her as he spoke. "I think I'll catch up with Chief Anderson and General Drake. I need to learn as much about him as I can. I need to observe him. Now is as good a time as any to get started." His once caressing, gravel edged tone had changed to staunch and decisive.

The voice of Mark's alter ego was speaking. Princess was now in the presence of her G-Force Commander. "Mark …" she began while rubbing at her temples. "I'm not taking sides."

He was already heading for the panel doors. "I'll see you at my house later tonight. See if you can come up with any information on Drake before you get there. Keye could probably use your help." The man with her moments before had evaporated right in front of her, turning into the duty driven Federation officer she wanted to avoid.

Mark was out of the room before Princess could say anymore. _Funny how he manages to dismiss you without your ever having to leave the room_, Princess thought sadly. She wished he had more faith in her and her loyalty to him.

Princess blew between pursed lips, looked around at the now vacant office, and left in search of her younger brother. Like Mark, she cuffed her left wrist checking her communicator as she passed through the panel doors. G-Force was officially back on duty.

_**Thanks for reading!**_


End file.
